Endangered
by Seriyah
Summary: Desiree is the last of her kind.A Shapeshifter.But an organization whose members are called "Hunters" has killed her family and friends, and will stop at nothing to see her dead. What happens when she stumbles upon an artist named Dakota? R
1. Prologue

**Endangered**

They are all dead now. Every last one. My mother. My father. My sister. Everyone. I am the last of my family. The last of my kind. I am more of an endangered species now then I ever was. If the Hunters have their way, I will be extinct by moonrise. But they won't get their way.

I never was one for obeying

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I felt the wind rush through my tawny hair, carrying the sweet smell of the forest. The Hunters were running, but I was faster.

I am always faster.

I felt the fierce ache of my power leak into my lithe body, speeding me up better then adrenaline. No, the Hunters won't catch me tonight, but they won't give up either. I dashed through the dark, weaving my way around the moss-covered trees.

My sharp, feline eyes caught the brightening up ahead, and I raced towards it, my bare feet skimming over the bracken. My sensitive, canine ears caught the sounds of the Hunters behind me, running with their white hounds.

They were special dogs, hate, imbued into their system. Hate for me and my unique scent. The Hunters forced them to, or else they would either fear me or love me. I had a way with animals.

The thick foliage obscured my vision of the moon, but I could see clearly with the silvery light it lent me. It would be too dark for the Hunter's to see me clearly, they were only human. They were very dependent on the sensitive noses of their white beast-dogs.

But if any human wandered aimlessly in the forest this night and saw me run by, even they would see I wasn't right. That I wasn't normal.

They might see that my gait was too fast, too graceful, to be human. They might see that my body is too angular, too perfect, to be of this realm.

I'm almost definitely sure the tail would throw them off.

Or-if I stopped to chat- that 'fang' and 'claw' quite accurately described my teeth and nails. I was using too much power to appear 'normal' right now, but that suited me just fine.

I saw the moon through the thinning trees, round and swollen in the sky. I finally burst into the open and silent night. The large, jagged rocks hampered my speed; I had to watch where I placed my feet. Despite my caution, I winced when an especially sharp rock kissed the bottom on my foot, scraping my heel. I would have to check that out, but I had not time to stop now. I could hear the foot-falls, and paw steps behind me, rapidly approaching the forest's edge.

I nearly sighed as I reached the wet, white sand. The coolness of the sand soothed my foot, even if some grain stung my raw heal. I risked a glance over my shoulder and saw them scrambling over the sharp splinters of rock.

The dogs were pure white, even their eyes leeched of colour, leaving them a smooth, milky cream. From ground to shoulder, they were always measured around three feet, a monstrosity. Their necks and shoulders were thick with slab-like muscle. Their heads were wider then dinner plates and their jaws strong enough to crush bone. With canines long enough that they were always showing, the look was purely demonic. We call them Phantoms.

Well, Icall them Phantoms.

I keep forgetting there is no more 'we'.

What _I _learned over the years is that wherever there is a Phantom, there is a Hunter close by. Hunters themselves were human, so they came in all shapes, sizes and colours. I can't truthfully say all Hunters are males, but I have never seen a female Hunter.

Hunters were the only humans that knew everything of my existence. They were chosen for their talent. Either their physical prowess, their keen eyesight or their ability to identify the abnormal. Anything that is essential for capturing and destroying their target.

Me.

A few years ago, the feeble human group and their mutts were no more a threat then a fly. Even the idea they were 'after us' was laughable.

That is, until a few months later when they killed my best friend, Lily.

The ice-cold water swirled around my ankles, bringing me back to the present. I mentally scolded myself for letting my mind drift. If I was going to lose these guys I was going to have to be attentive.

The water drastically reduced my speed as my calves swished through the choppy surface. I'm glad I left my clothes behind-they would have slowed me down considerably. When you're someone like me, clothes are a luxury, not a necessity.

My yellow and black tail swished against my water-flecked thighs. Back you go. The next time it brushed my leg, it stuck, and then melted into my skin. It disappeared along with my claws and fangs.

My legs were numb from the ocean, and the wind was glacial. It whipped my hair around my face and stung my eyes. I shuddered, feeling goose-flesh being raised on my skin.

I half-turned, my steel-grey eyes searching for the rapidly approaching threat.

The Hunters had released the three Phantoms, and they were already half-way across the beach, their white eyes flaming with rage as they followed my scent.

I turned hurriedly, not wanting to face them. Phantoms were dealt with a lot easier when they were by themselves, like Hunters. But Hunters and Phantoms in packs were deadly. I've seen too many of my kind ripped to shreds by Phantom pack for them to be considered anything less then lethal. But I can't think of that now.

I let my inner power caress my body from the inside out. I let instinct kick in, and felt my skin turn rubbery and smooth. I crouched, then vaulted myself out of the water, diving forward. My arms in front of my face, I saw my skin grey and begin to shine. I felt my body shift, bones turning into softer cartilage, rearranging, resizing. A dorsal fin sprouted from my back and my legs melded together, muscle thickening, until my tail was strong and rigid. My head was tapered into a narrow snout, my mouth filled with meddle-sharp teeth. I felt the change, felt every single altercation. It seemed like forever although it probably looked instantaneous to anyone watching.

I entered the ocean head first, my new dolphin body cutting smoothing into the water. My power grey tail moved almost mechanically, up and down, pushing me through the water, my streamline body destroying any resistance I might have encountered.

The night was young and I intended to make the most of it. I powered through the black mass before me, taking endurance over speed.

I would need to go a _long_ time into the night.

I couldn't let the caress of the liquid salt lull me into a false sense of security. I could hear the muffled howls of the Phantoms filter through the dense blackness around me. It was a haunting sound that made a shudder run down my sleek body.

Lessening the solemnise was the gruff, muted voices of the Hunters, muttering curses that were directed at me.

I went up for air, spraying water up in the air, waving my flukes tauntingly towards my pursuers before disappearing from sight. I heard the Phantom's pitch increase and the Hunters swearing.

I smirked a dolphin smirk and dove deeper into the black abyss that yawned below me.


	2. Chapter 1:: Pain

**Endangered**

Chapter 1: Pain

Desiree Pov

It was hard not to feel safe in the enveloping serenity of the Atlantic Ocean, but I had to stay alert. I stayed as a dolphin for as long as I could, swimming close to the other dolphin pods, staying submerged until I absolutely had to take a breath.

Even then, I would only stick my blow hole above the water. Sometimes I permitted myself to stick my head out of the water and glance around. Endless blue-grey met my eyes every time.

I only lasted as a dolphin for a few days, though. The over whelming need to change took hold, and I didn't resist it's influence.

I felt the top half on my jaw grow longer and sharper. My body shrank, grey, slippery skin turning to gorgeous blue scales, streaked with a light yellow.

I zoomed around a bit in my sailfish body, testing it's limitations. Instead of a dolphin tail that pumped up and down, my new tail swished side to side. The difference seemed significant.

I relished the feel of the salty liquid rushing past my body, along the fan-like fin at ran down my cartilage spine. I was near the surface and couldn't resist flying out of the water, feeling the air cool my scales before going back in the ocean with a splash.

I was surprised at how fast the other sailfish found me. The _Male_ one. The male sailfish vied for my attention, trying to earn my admiration. I tried chasing him away normally but he was stubborn, and he kept coming back. He reminded my of the more obnoxious of my kind, trying to impress me, showing their potential to be a good mate.

Man, you know you need normal company when you refer to a fish as an annoying jerk.

As soon as I thought the words they cut through my heart like razors, leaving only when my chest was a suitable amount of aching ribbons.

I instantly lost patience with the flashy male.

In my rage, the change was swift. My pointed, spear-like nose receded while my jaws bulged, serrated teeth glinting in the light displaced by the water. As the biggest great white shark I could muster, I lashed out, sharp teeth making quick work of the soft flesh and scale. Driven into a blood-induced frenzy, I bit and tore into the sailfish body. I writhed around for awhile, still worked up by water stained scarlet.

My teeth met nothing but water.

When I finally got the blood out of my system, the lone sailfish was nothing but floating particles. My stomach felt sickeningly full. What a mighty hunter I am, I thought bitterly. Desiree the Lethal. Desiree the Monster.

Desiree the Lonely.

In my sudden depression, I did not care enough to notice- or suspect- the fast, jet-engine boat that flew by nor the people leaning over the side, pointing frantically at me. Not even the fact that they circled back. I wasn't so far gone that I didn't notice the pain as the boat slammed into the lower half of my body. If my my few bones weren't made of cartilage, they probably would've shattered.

Instead of running, like I was trained to do, I turned to face my attackers. I guess that was my first mistake because a spear shot from a gun cut my fin as I turned. Like I said, a mistake.

But I am tired of running. I am tired of being alone. I won't give up, I promised myself, but I will stand my ground. Fight to the Death. Them or me.

Some Hunters were already in the water, firing sharpened metal in my direction. The spears were faster, but this was water, and sharks-no matter how huge- could turn on a dime. They were easily avoided.

I could smell, I could _taste_, the blood coming off my fin, and it was sparking another frenzy in my body. The Hunters seemed surprised by my head on approach-they were used to us running- and were trying to retreat while awkwardly trying to reload their weapons. I powered along in my smooth, strong body for only a few seconds before I was among them.

I closed my jaws onto one of the Hunter's legs, my teeth meeting chain-mail. I shook my head violently, the human body in front of me flailing like the rag-dolls the young children of my kind used to have. Until they were slaughtered like lambs.

My jagged teeth finally ripped some holes in his iron protection, and I tasted his blood. It was like an electric shock through my body. His blood, coupled with the mental picture of bloody lambs with dolls, made me put more vigour in my effort to rip the Hunter to shreds. I heard the air bubbles escape his lungs in a futile scream.

With one last jerk, I felt the jolt of his leg being dislocated, and heard the crunch of my jaws crunching his thigh.

I was shrouded by a cloud of red.

Being half crazy from the blood and being blinded by my hatred of Man, I lunged forward, towards the unprotected face of another Hunter. Just as my teeth plunged into the soft flesh, glancing off the smooth bone, two insignificant pin-pricks erased my will to fight. One pricking my side, the other my undistinguished neck.

The reason of my lost will: those two small pricks were accompanied by a pain so intense I felt as if it alone would kill me. It was if barbed wire ran through my veins instead of blood.

Teeth still firmly embedded in the Hunter's head, I thrashed around violently, writhing in pain, trying to dispel the thick pain. I vaguely heard the _crack_ as I broke the Hunter's neck. I was very vaguely aware of the smug, human voices. The corpse I clung to was getting uncomforting heavy so I unlocked my teeth to let it sink. I still thrashed, the pain unendurable.

My entire body quaked, tremors wracking my body as new waves of pain slammed into my veins. What kind of demon could create such a poison as this? In my panic, my pain, my need to escape, I dropped any human moral's I had kept up, banished any rational thoughts that might have wandered in my mind.

I dipped into my animal instinct, acting as I should have been acting. Living as I should have been living. The life of a shape-shifter. A skin-changer.

Startled and frightened yells filled the air as me- more then nine feet of shark- hurtled into the air. I changed swiftly, and should not have been surprised when it burned like the fires of Hell. I let out a high pitched shriek, my wide, albatross wings failing to catch the air. I struggled for a moment, then my wings caught the air at the last moment, my talons skimming the cold ocean waters.

I pumped my wings furiously, try to gain altitude in the deceivingly clear sky. Ever few seconds new pain would wave over me and I would sink a few feet in the sky, often accompanied by a shriek of pain I had identified as my own. I didn't want to risk the fire that would sear my veins to look back and see what the Hunter's were doing.

Through the haze of pain I assumed they were either A) Staring blankly after me, stupefied into a frozen state. Or B) Scrambling over each other trying to organize their next attack on me. Even with the choking pain shading my mind I knew option B was more likely.

I didn't have enough luck option A required.

The thought made me fly faster, in turn, raising the level of pain exponentially. But instinct told me to flee and I had put myself in instinct's mercy. I was surprised to find a strip of shoreline much closer then I had dared hope for. I tried to calculate where I was, but a fresh wave of pain stabbed into my system, and effectively jarred my train of thought.

The flight to land took me an hour. An hour of excruciating pain that intensified whenever I beat my wings. An hour that made each heartbeat seem like a stake through my head. Needless to say….It was a _very_ long hour. Many times my vision blurred from the intensity of the liquid fire that burned through my body. Twice, as I came closer to shore, I had the unpleasant experience of veering into a seagull.

I finally landed on shore, the air clogged with clouds of chemical fumes hat made me hack and choke. I shuddered into the shape of a German Shepherd, and let out an agonized yelp as I collapsed on the rocky shore. On my side, I took fast, ragged breaths and the air ripped through my lungs like a saw.

Deep down, past the thick pain, I felt a grain of pride. I was proud I hadn't let the pain incapacitate me, glad I kept going. Right next to the pride was embarrassment. What I did back there, attack the Hunters, was possibly the most stupid thing I had ever done in my entire life.

Now I might pay for it with my life.

I was hard to try and think positive, to tell myself I was going to pull through-to live, when every breath I took, every time my heart beat, pain lanced through my body. I realized I wasn't moving anymore, that I lay with my side pressed against the pebbled beach. My pride quickly turned to arrogance.

I would _not_ let this stop me. I would _not_ let my body be ruled by this poison the Hunters have pumped me with. I slowly go to my paws, mind reeling, my body protesting, and last but not least, pain jabbing at my limbs with crippling strength. It made me shudder and whimper, but pride kept me on my feet as I lurched forward.

I raced past this industrious wasteland, my nose crinkling in distaste of the noxious fumes, then into the unfamiliar city. I realized I wasn't going fast enough, and cringed at the thought of what I must do. I ducked into an ally where no one could watch, and a shriek of pain later, I was an albatross again.

Normally I loved flying. The rush of wind through my feathers, the solidarity, the feeling of my power humming through my body. Now, though, the experience was torturous. I glided whenever I could because wing beats felt like hammers to the head. I had to stay lower then I would have liked because of my fear of going unconscious and breaking bone when I fell. I hated the Hunters even _more _now, if it was possible. They have taken away the joy that came with being what I am.

I would kill every last one of them for it.

I flew for very long and very far I flew for six hours straight- fearing I would never go into the air gain if I ever landed- not slowing my pace despite the pain that tried to destroy me from the inside out. Many cities passed under my wings as I flew away from the ocean. I realized with elation that the pain was slowly dimming, slowly leaving my body.

Me elation was short-lived, quickly turning to horror as I discovered the fiery pain wasn't numbing, I was losing my consciousness. My eyesight dimmed and my heartbeat was slowing despite my now frantic pace.

I was dying.

Panic swamped me and I dove for the ground, reasoning I would end up there at any rate. I changed before I hit the ground. I traded talons and wings for long, strong limbs. My feathers frayed and darkened, turning to harsh, wiry fur. I felt pain flare into my aching body but it didn't last, it faded as my heartbeats sounded softer and softer.

There was dry, brittle grass beneath my paws, and I hurtled forward. I remember leaping over a couple fences, but the colours are so blurred I can hardly tell the difference between ground and sky. I didn't even know which skin I wore, but whatever it was scared a couple children as I passed close to them. Their screams followed me over the fence.

I'm not sure if it was the screams or the fact that I was ebbed of all strength were the major contributors, but when my clawed feet made contact with the ground, my legs folded without my consent. I shivered sliding painlessly now into my human form. My face turned to the side so I could breathe. Not that it mattered anymore.

I was going to die.

The inevitable news flowed as sluggishly through my body as my blood flowed through my veins. I closed my eyes, and I am pretty sure I sighed. Dying wasn't so bad, now that I couldn't feel the pain anymore. I was comfortable now, my bare skin pressed against the earth and grass. I wouldn't have to run anymore and I would see my family and friends again.

I felt the faint touch of feathers on my skin. I was vaguely aware of something furry on my hand. Some animals to see me off. If I had control of my body, I would have smiled. _goodbye,_ I thought to them, _See you in another lifetime._

The Shape-shifters would die out now, just as the Hunters had always wanted.

Reality lost its meaning, and everything went black.


	3. Chapter 2:: An Artist

**Endangered**

Chapter 2:: An Artist

Dakota Pov

"Earth to Dakota? Helloooo!" Someone's voice drifted into my consciousness and my bubble of happy daydreams was shattered.

"Huh?" I managed, tearing my eyes away from the window where golden light filtered through the screen. I looked across the room to see Tristan in the doorway, looking over his shoulder at me. He was almost as tall as I was, more gangly-looking though. He had just dyed his hair a deep burgundy, making his eyes-a light jade in colour- stand out freakishly.

"I asked if you wanted to come play football with the guys. You okay? You've been distracted all day."

I waved off his concern. " I am just trying not to forget that I have to go to my parents house today and water the plants. And feed the bird. Whose playing Falcon?" My tall friend may have been named Tristan at birth, but it had been a long time since any one of his friends had called him that. The reason for the change? The falcon tattoo he had gotten on his back, wings outstretched, gaping beak stamped onto the nape of his neck. Falcon had been his nickname for 5 years now. Even some of the professors had given up calling him by his real name.

Falcon shrugged." Just the norm. Maybe Jeff, nothing big." I began zoning out again. My eyes, to their own accord, flicked over quickly to my sketchbook, hoping Falcon wouldn't see.

He did- naturally.

He flashed his signature, wicked grin that was always accompanied by a matching glint in his eyes and I know what he is going to say before he says it.

"I should have known." he shook his head in mock-disgust." The first day over 20 degrees and you going over to your family's house. It all adds up." Falcon snickered, " I should have known you couldn't wait to doodle in that book of yours. You are just _so_ predictable."

I rolled my eyes at him. " First of all, I don't doodle- I sketch. Second," I shrugged my shoulders for effect, " Everyone knows I like sketching." It was true. _Everyone_ seemed to know of the ex-jock turned artistic. Falcon laughed.

"Yeah yeah. Go scribble in your book. I won't keep you. Not like I could if I'd wanted to anyway." He offered another wicked grin as he gave me a once over. Being 6'5, broad-shouldered and having extensive tackling experience as a direct result of playing football all though high school, I guess I could be considered intimidating.

Falcon was out the door and down the hall before I could say anything more. Grinning, I stowed my sketchbook and pencils in my bag, grabbed my helmet and riding jacket, and headed out the door. A couple steps into the parking lot and I easily located my motorcycle.

While other kids got their first car, I got my first bike. Due to my obsessive care, it was still in top condition; the same as the day I got it. It was a glossy, midnight-black, my helmet and jacket matching it in colour. I lifted the leather seat, shoving my pack in the empty cavity. I debated shortly before tossing in my jacket after it. I was fine in my white t-shirt.

Jamming my foot on the kick-start, it roared to life underneath me, making me grin. I easily flipped on my helmet, put it in first-gear, and sped off onto the road in less then 20 seconds. I loved riding. Loved the rush of wind whipping around my body. Loved the constant rumbling growl of my motorcycle beneath me.

Motorcycles naturally attracted attention, but I was still surprised when I looked over at the car beside me on a red light and its occupants squealed. Note to self: Teenaged girls shrieked when caught looking at a stranger. In the future, try not to make eye contact. I don't really understand the attraction females had for me. I mean, sure, my body wasn't exactly slight but other then that I wasn't that spectacular.

I was mildly pondering this when I walked into my house, removing my helmet and tossing my keys into the basket with several other trinkets in it. Movement in the corner of my eye caught my attention, but it was only the mirror. My hair was flattened by the helmet so I passed my fingers lightly through it once. It was tri-coloured, or 'clown-coloured' as Falcon so charmingly put it. My hair was a combination of blond, dark-brown, and a lighter brown that nearly had an orange tinge to it. It behaved strangely as well, all the separate colours clumping together, making my hair seem, 'piece-y'.

Personally, I liked the colour of my eyes, they reminded me of army-fatigues. They were a light brown, hazel almost, a darker dull-green randomly flecked in. I shook my head all the same. No, I never will understand why girls chase after me, even though I had a girlfriend.

The musical trill of the family bird, Mimi, interrupted my thought-process. Mimi is a sweet, green and yellow budgie that cuddled up to my fingers as I restocked her food and water. Mimi had been part of the family for three years now and you would have thought she would have been bored by the same people over and over again, but she seemed just as happy as always. I couldn't help but smile as she happily sung her heart out, swinging on a rope my mother had hung in her cage.

The little female budgie always sings when she is happy. I guess she was happy to see me, having to be here all by herself in the house for so long. Mom and Dad were on a cruise to the Caribbean and had told me to take care of the house. I retrieved my sketchbook from downstairs to do a quick sketch of the euphoric Mimi, all puffed up and bright-eyed from the excitement that was my visit. I grinned one last time at the euphoric budgie before leaving to water the plants, her songs following me out.

I ghosted from one part of the house to another, watering the assortment of plants that had begun to wilt from the heat. On my way out the front door to water the front garden I checked the temperature. It was 27 degrees celsius. I smiled happily at the golden sun and its heated rays. Today was gorgeous and it couldn't get anymore perfect.

************************************************************************

"Excuse me Sir."

I looked up from the hose I was wrestling with. I had long since watered the front of the house, but the garden hose refused to comply with my wishes. "Yes?" I answered, dropping the tangled snarl of green, relieved I would no longer have to fail at fixing the hose, and stepped out of the garage. The man was tall and strong-looking but I was still almost two inches taller than him. His hair was inky black and cropped short, his eyes matching in colour.

He held the leash to one of the biggest dogs I've ever seen in my life. It's head was well past my waist and much wider than my hand; it's white fur was bristling. I felt uneasy looking at the canines that seemed to big for its jaws and its white, seemingly sightless eyes.

"Erm…excuse me?" I asked as I realized the guy had said something while I had zoned out.

"I asked if you have seen a large dog around. About this height, " he tugged at the leash to indicate he meant the white dog by his side, " And dark grey, possibly black in colours. One of your neighbours called to report the animal was seen around here." I saw a white van parked along the curb, the words 'Animal Control' printed along the side. Matching words were sprawled across the man's chest.

"Uh….no, actually." I thought for a moment before offering, " There is a vicious tabby the comes around here once and awhile though."

I saw the man's lip twitch in a way that showed he was annoyed but I wasn't important enough for it to be expressed.

My famous, footballer short-temper flared.

"Well, if you're done, I guess you should go look for that dog." I snapped, reaching back and one-handedly pulled the garage door down. The thundered behind me briefly before bounced on the driveway. I was irritated with this person and was creeped out by his beastly dog. It was an unease that tugged at the pit of my stomach, almost to the point of illness.

Awareness flashed in the man's black eyes as he realized something I couldn't fathom. It was swiftly replaced by a sort of detached amusement, which made me even more agitated. " If you see it anywhere, let us know." he handed me a piece of stiff paper, presumably a business card. I didn't look at it too closely, simply shoving it in my back pocket.

"Yeah, whatever," I replied frostily.

His dark eyes travelled once from me to his dog before he began walking back toward the van, tugging his leash to get the canine to follow.

Still jumpy from my frayed nerves, I decided I would start some nice, calming sketching now and water the back yard. My now unsettled mood brightened infinitesimally when I heard Mimi's welcoming whistles from upstairs. She seemed ecstatic I came back. I retrieved the sketch book I had thrown so reckless across the table, stuck a pencil behind my ear, and marched toward the backdoor.

I opened the sliding door, eyes on a sketch of Mimi I had done awhile back, then leaned back to check the time. It was 6:00 pm and still shining.

I was smiling when I saw her.

My jaw loosened and my smile quickly turned into an open-mouthed gape. I felt my eyes widen as they took in the being before me. I noticed three things simultaneously.

Number 1: She was so gorgeous it almost hurt to look at her.

Her skin was lightly tanned, looking like it was dusted in shimmering, golden powder. Her hair was strewn wildly across her back, sharply waving untill just past her shoulder blades. It was the same tawny yellow of a lion, which blended perfectly with her golden-brown highlights. Even lying prone I could see the grace with that she would move in the sleek curve of her body, and the lines of her long legs.

She had her head turned toward me, so I could see what kind of visage came with such a body. She had a narrow face with high cheekbones, her lips in the ghost of a smile. Her fine eyelashes rested gently on her cheek, looking for all the world like they were made of gold dust, her fair eyebrows arched elegantly above them. She was slender but I saw the hint of muscle beneath her skin on her arms and legs.

Number 2: She was covered in animals of all sizes.

I noticed the tail of a chipmunk, curled in a tight ball on her palm. I watched a snake coil itself tighter around her arm, disregarding the chickadees that tangled themselves in her hair. A rabbit tucked itself along her side while a squirrel rested between her shoulders. A fox draped itself over her thigh, pressing its head close to her hip. But I thought the one creature with the most presence was the bald eagle. He perched on her lowered back, gazing at her with a sense of sadness. They _all_ looked sad, limp by her body, eyes closed.

Last but most certainly not least, the most shocking of all discoveries was…

Number 3: She was stark-naked.

I nearly swallowed my tongue with _that_ particular discovery. The heat I felt on my skin had nothing to do with the temperature. It was a good thing she was lying face-down, or I might have spontaneously combusted.

The animals seemed to notice my presence at that time because they all fled in the same instance, scrambling over the high fence Dad had built to give us privacy. All except the eagle. He was a magnificent example of an eagle, all his feathers perfectly aligned and sable except for the brilliant white of his head. His fierce, burning yellow eyes bored into mine and I shifted uncomfortably under his glare.

Truth be told, I was frightened. My fear only increased as the eagle unfolded his seven-foot wingspan and loosed and ear-piercing shriek. It sounded distressed and accusatory. I was rooted to the spot until it lunged forward with another bone-rattling scream.

Instinct stepped in and I dropped out of the way of the eagle's sharp, grabbing talons. I Spun quickly, expecting another attack, but the eagle was already streaking away, looking so majestic I had to stop and stare for a moment.

Then, unease made the hairs on the back on my neck stand on end. Remembering the being behind me, I whirled around, only to find her in the exact same place; unchanged. I had expected to move or talk or _something_.

"Um……excuse me?" I asked politely, my voice shaking the slightest, trying to make her talk or open her eyes. She was unresponsive. An unsettling prickling under my skin told me that she might not be able to open her eyes. That she might never open them again.

I forced the small voice out of my head and rushed forward. I kept my eyes away from her lower back, but I couldn't completely keep myself from appraising her. As I let my eyes wonder over the smooth skin of her body -pointedly avoiding one area- my mind registered some smaller details.

The palms of her hands and feet were black, like she was pressed them both in tar. I noticed her wasn't breathing.

No.

I dropped to my knees and put a hand to her side, taking note of her colder skin temperature. She _was_ breathing, but her breathes were shallow and impossibly slow, getting slower. Mt hand brushed something hard and smooth and when I looked it was a silver dart.

For appearance's sake, it looked like a clear tranquilizer. The liquid inside was a bright, poisonous yellow. I ripped it out of her skin and the end proved to be barded. I winced when I realized this and looked away from the two inch needle to the hole in her skin I created taking it out. Blood trickled out at a sluggish pace and when I looked closer I was startled to find it was tinged green.

In fact, I could faintly see all her veins through her golden skin like a toxic-green web woven around her body. Panic gripped me as I examined the vicious-looking dart again. Who would make something like this? What did they do to this girl?

I reached out hesitantly for her neck, fingertips searching for a pulse. A silver flashed near the base of her throat caught my eye. It was another dart, this one containing an unnaturall vibrant blue. Like the last dart, it only contained a centimetre or so of liquid left, having emptied the rest into her bloodstream.

Also like the last one, the end was barbed and wickedly held onto her skin when I pulled it out. I winced, but the beautiful girl didn't even stir.

The blood that welled to the surface had the same greenish tinge to it. My fingers were shaking as I lifted her eyelid. My heart jolted and my breathing stopped abruptly when I saw that her irises were no longer visible, having rolled up into her skull. The thin, spider-web veins that reached up into the middle over her eyes were a venomous green.

I snatched my hand back and her eyes fluttered shut again. I was shaking. What do I do? What do I do!? I asked myself repeatedly. I _had_ to help her, Something compelled me to. I couldn't let this beautiful creature before me die.

It would be a sin.

I raced inside the house, rapidly pawing through the contents of the bathroom cupboard. I finally found gauze and some medical tape. I zoomed back outside. Her blood was flowing much more freely that I anticipated. I wasn't sure if I should be pleased or not that more green than red was leaving her system, and her blood was beginning to turn back to its original colour.

I quickly taped a wad of gauze to the hole in her side and the matching hole on her neck. I gave her a once over to look for anymore wounds. I found a shallow cut on her arm, the blood more red than green now, and I was relieved that I couldn't see her veins through her skin anymore. Her heel was scraped but it didn't look too bad. By the time I was done the sun was beginning to set and I was famished.

It was then I realized I had absolutely no idea what I was going to do with sleeping beauty in front of me. Her breathing was a bit deeper now, more noticeable, and every now and then her brow would furrow. I hadn't even thought about calling for an ambulance once, thought -now- it seemed like the most logical choice. I guess in my panic I thought everyone would blame _me_ for hurting the beautiful female.

I reached forward to check her eyes again, brushing her hair out of her face to do so. I winced when I saw her eyes still rolled back, hiding the iris from me, but I felt better when I saw the thin veins were had returned to a natural looking red. Also, as I held me hand to her cheek, she felt warmer than she had before. Still slightly cold, but not like ice anymore.

Actually, there were goose bumps on her skin and she shivered when I unwillingly pulled my hand from her flawless face. It was obvious I had to get her inside, but I was about to grab her when I remembered she doesn't have a stitch of clothing on. My dilemma lasted all of ten seconds as I raced upstairs and pulled the heavy comforter of my parents bed.

After fumbling with it down the stairs I draped it over her prone figure. I wrapped my arms around her more successfully this time, keeping the cloth between her skin and mine.

She was a lot heavy than I expected. She looked almost dainty sprawled across my backyard, but holding her up was another story completely. Muscle is dense, but she didn't look _that_ stocky.

Weight expectation aside, I carried her easily enough to the couch, praying that she wouldn't wake up before I had put her down. I lay her on her stomach again. I turned her face to the side so the pillow wouldn't smother her

I took a step back and gazed at her sleeping form with eyes that appreciated the view. Even unconscious she was stunning, her sleek body sheathed by the heavy cloth. I shuddered at the joke Falcon would have unleashed on me if he knew I found a hot, naked, _unconscious_ female in my backyard.

He wasn't really the sensitive kind of person.

I walked into the kitchen, took some leftover steak from a Tupperware container and tossed it into the microwave. After setting the time I walked back into the living room and sunk into the recliner chair with a sigh. I screwed my eyes shut and ran a hand through my hair.

What happened to my perfect Friday?

It all went up in smoke the second I saw _her_. No, that's not true. If I was being honest it all disappeared as soon as that guy showed up. And his creepy dog. I felt uneasy just thinking about it.

I decided I would kill the next three minutes of waiting for the microwave to beep by watching T.V. Then I realized the remote was under sleepy beauty on the couch, and with satellite all the good channels were miles apart. Unphased I decided I would watch whatever the last channel was, which was a music channel, if I wasn't mistaken.

I got up to manually press the button when she moved. I froze like I was caught in the act of stealing some priceless object. She squirmed under the comforter, she shoulder brushing her cheek, and just as soon as she started moving, she stopped.

I thanked my lucky stars she hadn't woken up. I don't know what I would've said to her.

I waited for another ten seconds, making sure she really _was_ asleep before pressing the power button. I had expected the music, but not the eye-full of girls in slinky outfits dancing to some fast-paced song. I took one look at the attractive female dancers on-screen another look at the glorious, blanket-wearing angel on the couch to my left, turned off the T.V., then escaped to the kitchen just as the microwave beeped.

How I was acting seemed so ridicules to me. Here I was, sneaking around my own house because I didn't want to wake up a _stranger_. I cut off a piece of steak and shoved it into my mouth without really tasting it. I still felt unnerved and nauseous. The feeling hadn't gone away since I spoke with the man from Animal Control.

I put the fork down and shoved the plate away, wrinkling my nose in disgust. I wasn't feeling so hungry anymore.

The wind rushing in from the open back door was chilly, despite the warmth the day had provided. I trudged around the kitchen to shut the door so my unexpected visitor wouldn't get cold. I rolled my eyes. Great. Now she was affecting my thought process.

The door wouldn't close under my prompting, breaking my train of thought as I looked down to see the obstruction. It was my sketchbook, unmoved from where I dropped in in my haste to reach _her_. I realized I still had my pencil behind my ear.

So much for sketching.

I sighed as I bent to retrieve my drawings, removing my pencil from its original position. Closing the door with greater success, I wandered aimlessly through the house. Well…I _thought_ it was aimlessly, but I was aware of myself drifting closer and closer to the living-room.

Figuring I would end up there at any rate, I gave a resigned sigh and walked directly into the room, sitting on the recliner once more.

I thought of the dramatic turn my day had taken in the last couple hours. And I thought about the mystery the woman on my couch presented. I examined her absurdly perfect face, trying to piece it together.

She couldn't be out of high school yet, she looked only about 17.

So what does a beautiful senior do to get pumped with drugs, dumped naked in my backyard, and left to die?

She shifted in her sleep, eyes squinting before she relaxed. I decided I would interrogate her tomorrow, if she was up. And still there. It wouldn't surprise me if she magically disappeared into thin air. She seemed to other worldly to exist.

When she woke up then, I conformed.

Realization hit me hard.

Sleeping Beauty didn't have any pyjamas.

And when she woke up, naked, in a foreign house occupied by one, barely-out-of-his-teens male…I raced upstairs to find clothes before she woke up.

My mom was tiny, barely five feet/ No female clothes in this house would comfortably fit her. So I moved onto mine. I pulled out a shirt and some pants without really seeing them. Clothes were clothes, right?

The day caught up with me as I placed the clothes where she would easily see them. I checked the kitchen clock. It wasn't even ten yet. I went back upstairs again. I was so tired I didn't bother get changed, simply removed my shirt. As I collapsed diagonally across my bed I wondered when the last time I went to bed this early was. The farthest I could remember was grade six.

My thoughts were full of grade six as I drifted off to sleep.

************************************************************************

It was still dark when was jolted awake by sudden noise. I tried to blink the drowsiness and disorientation away so I could glance at my bedside clock. 6:04 am. My mind was whirling from the images I had dreamed.

I had dreamt of an demon with wings.

I _knew_ she was a demon, but I couldn't seem to stay away. The angelic figure was passive, sitting on her heels. The wings that protruded from her back were snowy white and beautiful, just like the rest of her. Except her eyes.

They were white. No iris, no pupil.

I shivered as she smiled at me, but walked forward. I couldn't seem to help myself. It was involuntary. It was _necessary_.

Somewhere from behind her body, out of nothingness, foxes began to stream over and around her body. Ravens dove out of the sky. I was suddenly swarmed by writhing bodies. The creatures clawed at my body and face. Somehow, through the screen of fur and feather, I could see the beautiful demon.

My unexpected visitor.

Suddenly she changed. Her wings darkened, almost to black, taking the place of her arms. Her body seemed to be collapsing on itself. In her place was a bald eagle with piercing yellow eyes that were glaring at me. It's great wings were striking the air and then it lunged at me with extended talons.

And that's when I woke up. I remembered with a jolt it was a noise, not the dream that woke me.

I got up, looking around for something long and strong enough that it wouldn't break when I smoked the intruder in the head with it. Finding nothing that fit my standards I crept downstairs as the light behind the windows steadily brightened.

I grabbed the wrong end of an umbrella in the front hall, keeping the wooden handle free and tried to moved as stealthily as I was able toward the kitchen, where I was pretty sure the sound had originated from. Raising my make-shift weapon -intent on beating the life out of whoever was in my house- I rounded the corner, my eyes rapidly searching for the danger. When I found it I felt my hands numb and loosen.

The clatter of the umbrella hitting the tiles made her turn, her steely eyes piercing mine.


End file.
